


Manhattan

by dreamyletters (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Some kind of skinny love?, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dreamyletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could have Manhattan, cause I can't have you.<br/>Based on Sara Bareilles' <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlxxSAnK6Do">Manhattan</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Manhattan

  
  
He stares.

  
He stares quietly, while this young man beside him breathes quietly in the dark, lying on the bed naked. His eyelashes rest on his cheeks and his lips are parted a little bit. He looked like he was in peace for once -and that's kind of painful. It was as if, if he would to touch him a little, Zayn might break. So he doesn't, and he just rests his heads on his hand, with just the right amount of space in between them. His other hand hovers above Zayn's sleeping figure. He almost, _almost_ touches him, but Liam decides against it. It goes back to his side. He curses under his breath that they had to share this bed because of a mix of rooms and all of those excuses. He has to bear it all -bear the existance of this man beside him, and his existance as well that their bodies can't melt on each other. He turns his back and closes his eyes this time, tomorrow morning he hopes he'll forget everything.

  
But he can't of course.

  
Can't forget the brown -or golden eyes, he's not sure himself -that greets him in the morning.

  
The half-smirk he does when he's amused with himself, or the times he licks his lips, or when he nibbles on the inside of his lower lip.

Zayn is unforgettable.

That's kind of a problem really.

(It haunts Liam too much.)

 

  
He stares.

  
He stares as quietly as he can, toning down the way his eyes look like they want to kiss every side of this man before him. A woman is talking on the side, asking some questions they don't want to answer (but they have to, it's always like that.) He wraps a hand around his arm, as if to hold himself in place. He can't. He can't move and it's tearing him down. He licks his lips and then he looks down. They're asking about girls and love and all of that again and he has to say yes to everything. Has to say he's happy with who he's with, the engagement is amazing, everything is just so...

Perfect.

Liam is perfect.

How the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. How his smile just lights up.

The way Liam talks about everything and his voice is a sweet little song stuck in his head.

And Liam always has his hands ready for Zayn to fall into, to hold on and...

His hands grip tighter. He looks up and he laughs with the boys. He doesn't even know what they're laughing about.

(He's not even sure if it's funny.)

  
  
The smoke in the air is familliar.

Liam slides the glass door open. Zayn's facing the city, body leaning on the railings. He's got a cigarette on one hand, and his other's just hanging loosely. It's probably one in the morning, and they have a whole schedule ahead of them later that day. Zayn can't sleep though, so he resolves to smoking. Liam can't either so he resolves to Zayn. Talking to Zayn, or just being in his presence entirely is enough to get him breathing again.

"Manhattan's really nice, yeah?" Liam says, like some greeting.

Zayn hums in agreement. The smoke wafts, curling into the dark, with city lights flooding the world right below it.

Liam leans on the rails as well, facing the city too.

They could hear each other breathe through the noisy streets of the city beyond them. They would sneak glances at each other, right past the tall buildings and blinding lights. They could feel themselves inching closer, through the beautiful mess that was Manhattan. They were so close, and yet their hands couldn't hold each other. Their shoulders have bumped each other and yet they looked at the opposite sides of Manhattan.

"Do you think we'll come back here?" Zayn whispers, in between the smoke.

"We could. If you want to." Liam replies.

And then Zayn turns to him, expression unreadable.

 

"... Yeah. I guess we always could."

 

(And they would go back to Manhattan. They'd find the city lights in each other eyes. Sometimes between the sheets, or when the nights are a little colder than they should.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First. Hope this is alright.  
> I really love this song, and for some reason reminded me of Ziam.


End file.
